What's Playing?
by AdmHawthorne
Summary: Jane and Frankie clean up the backyard while commenting on Jane's playlist. Implied Rizzles. Extending this out from a One-shot
1. Chapter 1

**I felt left out becuase I hadn't done a playlist story yet, so here's mine. It's a oneshot...for right now.**

**Characters aren't mine.  
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><p>"You have the gayest playlist I've ever seen, Sis." Frank flicked his finger over the mp3 player's screen as his eyes skimmed Jane's music selection for the day.<p>

"Hey," she made a grab for her player, pulling it out of his hands, "Give me that! Who told you that you could go digging through my stuff, huh?" She double checked to make sure it was still on the playlist she'd set it on earlier.

"Come on, Jane, if I'm going to have to listen to this… stuff, I should at least get to know what I'm in for." He looked around their parents' backyard, rolling his eyes as he bent over to pick up a rake.

"You lost the bet, Frankie. I win, that means I get to play _my_ playlist when we clean up the yard." She plugged the little player into the speakers sitting on the back porch. "Besides, we _both _got suckered into this. I could have been doing something else today." She turned the player on and went looking for the other rake.

"Yeah? Like what? Don't tell me you could have had a hot date." Her younger brother smirked at his own joke.

"Oh, you think you're funny, don't you?" She finally pulled the rake from behind the bushes running along the tall wooden fence. "Maura wanted me to go shopping with her today. Something about a dress for some gala or dance or ball or something." She started raking.

"Dress shopping? You'd rather go dress shopping than help clean up the yard?" Frankie's voice played somewhere between humor and sarcasm.

"Yeah, wouldn't you?" Jane shot back.

"Yeah, I would," her little brother admitted as he started raking.

They fell into a quiet concentration, Jane's playlist filtering through the quiet of the fall morning.

_Abuse Me - Silverchair  
>Alejandro - Lady Gaga<br>All American Girl - Melissa Etheridge  
>Angels Would Fall - Melissa Etheridge<em>

"That's Melissa Etheridge twice in a row, Jane. Can we just listen to the radio?" Frankie grunted as he dumped a mound of leaves into the bag Jane was holding open.

"No. Stop whining. You lost the dart game. This is my playlist. Deal." Jane dropped the bag and started raking again.

"Fine."

_Are You Happy Now? - Michelle Branch  
>Back 2 Good - Matchbox 20<br>Bad Romance - Lady Gaga  
>Bad Things - Jace Everett<br>Bent - Matchbox 20  
>Billy Jean - Chris Cornell<br>Black Hole Sun - Soundgarden  
>Born This Way - Lady Gaga<em>

"Oh, come on!" Frankie stood up from where he was pulling leaves from under the bushes. "Really, Jane? Lady Gaga? Seriously? What the hell?"

"What? I like her." She shot her brother a piercing look.

"Lady Gaga?" His voice was full of brotherly judgment.

"Maura got me hooked on her, okay?" She threw a clod of mud at her younger brother. "What's wrong with Lady Gaga anyway?" She stopped working in the flower bed to give her brother a warning look.

"Remember when I said your playlist was gay?" He squatted back down to keep working. "Well, isn't that pretty much the lgbt national anthem right now?"

"You know, it's more than just about being… man, Frankie, what is your deal? It's just a song?" She rolled her eyes, going back to work. "You done under the bush yet?" She smirked at her own dirty little joke.

"Hey, you have to take your time with these things. You rush working under the bush, and…"

"Okay… okay, that's enough of that." Jane cut him off, flinching a little.

_Breakdown - Melissa Etheridge  
>Breathe - Melissa Etheridge<br>Bring Me Some Water - Melissa Etheridge_

"Three Meli…"

"Shut up and finish with the bushes."

_Buenos Aires - Madonna, Antonio Banderas  
>Bring Me To Life - Evanescence<br>Buttons - Pussycat Dolls  
>Circus - Britney Spears<br>Clint Eastwood - Gorillaz  
>Cochise - Audioslave<br>Come to My Window - Melissa Etheridge  
>Comedown - Bush<br>Consider Me Gone - Reba McEntire  
>Creep - Radiohead<br>Criminal - Fiona Apple_

"Is that Fiona Apple?" Frankie stopped digging the new flowerbed, leaning against the hoe.

"Yeah," Jane looked up from her spot on the ground where she was planting new flowers by the bushes.

"Man, she was hot. Whatever happened to her?" He started digging again.

"She was too thin for me." Jane replied, half paying attention to what she was saying as she concentrated on making sure she had the color pattern correct. The last thing she wanted to do was plant everything incorrectly and have their mother make her dig everything up to do it again.

"Huh," Frankie replied, deciding to let the comment go.

_Don't Speak - No Doubt  
>Don't Trust me - 3OH!3<br>Dream On - Aerosmith  
>Drive - Incubus<br>Enter Sandman - Metallica  
>Family Affair - Mary J. Blige<br>Fast Car - Tracy Chapman  
>Giant - Melissa Etheridge<br>Give Me One Reason - Tracy Chapman_

"Isn't Tracy Chapman a…"

"Are you done with that flowerbed or what?" Jane's voice was on the verge between annoyed and pissed.

"Nope, let me just finish that."

"That's what I thought."

_Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger - Daft Punk_

"Do I even need to say it?" Frankie said as he continued to work.

"Only if you don't value your knee caps."

_Hate On Me - Jill Scott  
>heart Shaped Box - Nirvana<br>Hell Yeah - Montgomery Gentry  
>Hurt - Johnny Cash<br>I Don't Want to Be - Gavin DeGraw  
>I Kissed a Girl - Kate Perry<em>

"You know, I kissed a girl, and I really liked it," Frankie deadpanned as he hefted the bricks in the wheelbarrow across the yard to the newly dug flowerbed.

"Really? I guess that puts everyone's fears to rest," Jane shot back as she rolled her eyes.

"It's not bad," he said as he dumped the bricks and went for another load while ignoring his sister's stab, "Kissing a girl, I mean. You should try it sometime." He threw her a Rizzoli smirk.

"What makes you think I haven't?" She said, mirroring his smirk with one of her own before squatting down to start setting the bricks in place around the bed's border.

"I'm not falling for that setup," Frankie shot back as he started loading the wheelbarrow again.

_I Want to Come Over - Melissa Etheridge  
>I Write Sins Not Tragedies - Panic! At the Disco<br>I'm a Survivor - Reba McEntire  
>If U Seek Amy - Britney Spears<br>Infected - Bad Religion  
>Inner Universy - Vitek<br>Inside Out - Eve 6  
>Iron Man - Ozzy Osbourne<br>It's My Life - Bon Jovi_

"You used to blare this all the time when we were kids. Do you remember? It pissed Ma off so bad, I thought she was going to stab you in your sleep," Frankie mused as he spread out a layer of rich soil in the new flowerbed.

Laughing Jane helped, "Oh yeah, why do you think I did it?"

_Machinehead - Bush  
>Mama I'm Strange - Melissa Etheridge<br>Margaritaville - Jimmy Buffet  
>Mercy - Melissa Etheridge<br>Move Along - The All-american Rejects  
>My Immortal - Evanescence<br>My Life - Billy Joel  
>Need You Now - lady Antebellum<em>

The younger Rizzoli looked up to see his sister sitting on the ground, spade in hand, staring out into space. "Anyone I know?"

"What?" She shook her head, going back to work planting the new flowers.

"Who are you thinking about, Jane?" Frankie sighed, pushing dirt absentmindedly around. "Come on, that song's got you thinking about someone. Who is it? You can tell me."

"No one, okay? Let's just finish this crap."

_No One Knows - Queens of the Stone Age  
>Nobody's Fault But Mine - Beth Rowley<br>Old Enough to Know Better - Wade Hayes  
>Only Hapyp When It Rains - Garbage<br>Paint It Black - The Rolling Stones  
>Physical - Olivia Newton John<br>Piece of My Heart - Janis Joplin  
>Please Come to Boston - Dave Loggins<br>Pour Some Sugar On Me - Def Leppard  
>Push - Matchbox 20<br>Raise Your Glass - Pink  
>Real World - Matchbox 20<em>

"I'd love to be a superhero." Frankie mused as he began digging the hole at the back of the yard that would eventually hold the fledgling tree waiting to be planted.

"Speak for yourself," Jane grunted as she moved the tree over.

"What? You can't tell me _you_ wouldn't want to be a superhero."

"What do you mean 'want to be'? I _am_ a superhero. I totally rock. I've been kicking ass and taking names since you were a rookie still pissing your pants at the sight of a punk kid with a knife." She winked at her younger brother.

"I'm going to make detective one of these days, and, when I do, I expect there to be superpowers now." He continued to dig.

"Sure, we'll give you what's left over."

"What's that?"

"The power to _not_ piss yourself at the first sign of a punk kid with a knife." She chuckled, pulling the tree out of the wheelbarrow.

"Funny."

_Refugee - Melissa Etheridge  
>Rehab - Amy Winehouse<br>Respect - Aretha Franklin  
>Rockstar - Nickelback<br>Rose de Lay - The Killdares  
>Runaway Train - Soul Asylum<br>S&M – Rihanna_

"I think I'm too young to listen to this…" the blush creeping up Frankie's neck was, thankfully for him, not noticeable. Between the heat and the sun they'd been out in all day, he was red enough that any additional red didn't make much difference.

"Oh please, Frankie, I found the fuzzy cuffs you kept in your room for Josephine Tartulli."

"I'm not even going to ask what you were doing in my room, how you found those, or why you never told Ma. Instead, I'm just going to put this tree in this hole. You going to help or what?"

"You're telling me you need me to help you get something in a hole?" Jane gave her brother a devilish grin.

"Shut up."

_Save Tonight - Eagle-Eye Cherry  
>Say It Right - Nelly Furtado<br>Say My Name - Destiny's Child  
>Scar - Missy Higgins<br>Secret Agent - Melissa Etheridge  
>Sex and Candy - Marcy Playground<br>SexyBack - Justin Timberlake  
>Show Me The Meaning of Being Lonely - Backstreet Boys<em>

Frankie stopped painting the shed, to look at his big sister. "The Backstreet…"

"No." She didn't even bother to return his look. She just continued to paint.

_Third Rock From the Sun - Joe Diffie  
>Tik Tok - Ke$ha<br>Turn On the Radio - Reba McEntire_

"Hey, what's up with the country? When did you visit Texas?" Frankie leaned back in the grass, enjoying the break in working in the yard.

"Reba kind of grew on me. Korsak listens to her." She handed her brother a cold beer.

"You're kidding? Korsak?" He popped the cap off, throwing it in the wheelbarrow that had morphed into their makeshift trashcan.

"Yeah, but I think it's because he has a thing for redheads." She shrugged, sitting down across from him and sighing. "God, it's hot as hell out here. How long before you think we'll be done with that thing?" She motioned to the storage building.

"Don't know. That first coat should be dry here in a few. We need to put on at least two, you know?"

"Yeah," she took a long drag of her beer.

"Redheads, huh? They're okay, but I don't really dig their tempers." After making sure his beer wouldn't fall over, Frankie lay down on his back in the grass. "I prefer brunettes."

"Meh, I go with blondes, honey blondes… light hair. I definitely prefer light hair."

"Honey blonde…light hair?" Frankie sat up to look at his sister. "Like Dr. Isles?" He waggled his eyebrow suggestively at his sister.

"Really, Frankie?" She threw her bottle cap at him.

"What? I'm just asking for, you know, reference." He picked the cap up and threw it to land with his.

"Whatever. I get enough of that shit at work. Come on," she stood, finishing her beer and throwing it away. "I'm going to go pee and grab a sandwich while that dries. Bring the food out here in sec. Okay?"

"Yeah, sure, thanks."

_Smells Like Teen Spirit - Nirvana  
>So What - Pink<br>Somebody Told Me - The Killers  
>SOS - Rhianna<br>Standing Outside the Fire - Garth Brooks  
>Stellar - Incubus<br>Sunny Came Home - Shawn Colvin  
>Technologic - Daft Punk<br>Telephone - Lady Gaga, Beyonce_

"I wonder what Maura's doing right now?" Jane muttered to herself as she concentrated on the trim on the building.

"Maybe she's out on a date?" Frankie offered as he worked on the lower trim on the building.

"Damn it," Jane spat out. "You made me mess up the trim. Fuck. Now I have to redo this spot."

"What? All I said was maybe she was on a date!" He held his hands up in a show of innocence.

"Just… hand me the other paint brush, okay?"

_Under the Bridge - Red Hot Chili Peppers  
>Unwell - Matchbox 20<br>Wanted Dead or Alive - Bon Jovi  
>Welcome to the Jungle - Guns N' Roses<br>When I'm Gone - 3 Doors Down_

"Jane, you're doing it again." Frankie gave his sister a little shove.

"Doing what?" She shot him an angry look.

"Staring off into space. Seriously, who are you thinking about?"

"Joe Friday."

"Sure. Look, when you decide to talk about it…"

"Yeah, yeah," she turned back to finish the trim.

_You Give Love a Bad Name - Bon Jovi  
>You Spin Me Round - Dead or Alive<br>Your Rain - Akira Yamaoka  
>3 A.M. - Matchbox 20<em>

"Thank God that's over with," Jane shut and locked the storage building. "I can't wait to go home and take a shower." She pulled her tank top to the side, looking at her tan line. "Man, I've got to be five shades darker than when we started this crap today."

"We _were_ out here all day, but the yard looks good. When Ma and Pop come back, they're going to love it." He leaned over, brushing plant particles from his legs. "Hey, Janie, about your playlist?"

"Yeah, what about it?" She gave him a warning look as she unplugged the speakers and started putting things away.

"It's… well, are you sure you don't want to tell me anything?"

"Like what?" She dropped the speakers and player into a little carrying bag.

"You know, if you're… I mean, it's okay if you… Jane," he sighed, not believing he was about to say this to his sister and risk being shot in the nice, clean backyard. "If you're into girls, none of us would care."

"Man, Frankie, how many times do I have say that I," she turned to see her brother nervous and fidgeting with his cell phone, "I… yeah, okay," she stopped her rant before she could get started. "I know." Her voice was quiet as she picked up her back and dug for her keys.

"Why don't you just ask her out? She'd say yes." He was feeling braver. He wasn't dead, and that was a good sign.

"Who are you talking about?" She fiddled with her ponytail, tightening it as a way of stalling.

"You know who," he said, watching his sister with a curious eye. This was as close as anyone had ever gotten to getting her to actually talk about this. "Maura."

"She's my friend, Frankie."

"Well, true, but the best relationships start out as friends. I mean, look at Ma and Pop. They're best friends, too, not just… well, you know, Ma and Pop." He ran a hand across the back of his neck, trying to ease his sudden discomfort.

"Yeah, but, if I were friends with someone I had a thing for," she countered, now fidgeting with her keys, "I'd be afraid of messing it up. I wouldn't want to mess something up that I already had that I really liked because I tried to go for something that I only have a 50/50 shot on, you know?"

"But, I mean, have…I mean, would," he was trying to shift gears into the hypothetical, following his sister's lead, "you even ask? What could it hurt to ask?"

"Could hurt everything _if_ I asked. I don't… I _wouldn't_ want to give it the chance."

"To get fucked up, you mean?" He sighed, frustrated for his sister.

"Yeah."

"How can you know if you don't ask, Jane?" A familiar voice floated in from the back gate as Maura deftly walked across the freshly cut grass in her 4 inch heels.

"Ask what?" Jane shifted, trying to sound puzzled as she tried to suppress the grin spreading across her face.

"What the other… friend …thinks about entering into something more than simple friendship." The doctor handed her friend a bottle of cold water before passing one to Frankie. "Hello, Frankie."

"Hi, Doc." He gave her a welcoming smile. "What are you doing here?" He took the water. "Thanks."

"It was getting late in the day, and I hadn't heard from Jane. I knew you two were going to be here today working in the backyard, so I thought I'd come by to see how things were going." She glanced across the yard. "It looks wonderful! Angela and Frank will love it."

"You just decided to swing by?" Jane's voice held as much skepticism as her face showed.

"Well, I may have been a little lonely for company. We normally watch a movie on Saturday nights." The doctor shot the detective a small, shy smile. "I must admit, I'm accustomed to the routine."

"Oh, well, we're done. I was going to go inside, grab a shower, and go eat. You hungry?" She glanced over at Frankie, realizing he was still there.

"I have plans," he quickly offered. "You two have fun. I'm just going to head home and shower there." He pulled his keys out of his pocket. "See you later, Janie. Bye, Doc." He gave a wave as he made a hasty retreat.

"I don't mind waiting." Maura's smile broadened.

"Oh, okay, come in," she opened the back door, letting Maura enter first.

"Jane," the doctor began as she walked into the Rizzoli kitchen, "Which friend were you and Frankie talking about?"

"Um… you know, I'm just going to go take a shower, and we can talk about that at dinner, okay?" The detective shut the back door, locked it, and made a beeline for the stairs.

"Okay, Jane, but we _will_ be talking about it," Maura called after her.

"Yeah… yeah…" Jane called out as she ran up the stairs.

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><p><strong>I always love and appreciate your reviews. <strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**This chapter is written entirely by Googlemouth (who, much like AdmHawthorne, also does not own **_**Rizzoli & Isles**_** or its characters, but who is also very grateful to Tess Gerritsen for letting us borrow them).**

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><p>Maura Isles awakened at five o'clock in the morning on her day off with the help of her timed dimmer switch and the inspiring tones of Mozart's <em>Requiem<em> swelling from the Morning Music playlist she had programmed into her MP3 player, and listened to the vastness of choir and orchestra all through her morning routine. Yoga, laundry, breakfast, and tidying the kitchen took her all the way up through the beginning of "Lacrimosa," and she finished out the song while taking a break for some cold water. However, she switched to her chamber music playlist, featuring Bach and Vivaldi and a little Penderecki for variety, when a little tidying turned to all-out kitchen scouring and reorganizing, from cabinets to refrigerator, including door handles and drawer pulls.

As she stood back, sweating and dirty, the doctor smiled at the shine she had put on the room. She didn't often have the time to delve fully into a long cleaning session, but today another medical examiner was on call, so Maura knew that she would be free to impose order and cleanliness on whatever she chose. Classical, Romantic, Baroque, and Neoclassical music filled the air, piped into each room via the excellent sound system she had installed in her house just after moving in, inspiring her to next dust her book shelves, steam-clean her couches, and wash all her bedding while giving the guest bed and bathroom the cleaning of their lives. It was extremely satisfying, she reflected by the time noon rolled around and she had tossed the last of the cleaning cloths into the washer to finish up her morning's labors, to inhale the smell of environmentally safe cleaning solvents and know that her home was harboring no hidden filth.

The next inhalation brought less satisfaction, and Maura made a face. Why was it, she reflected, that cleaning anything besides oneself made one so dirty? She felt positively gritty. Time for a shower, which meant it was also time for a change. Hildegard of Bingen, she decided, and put just that single album on repeat. She loved the early music, but also enjoyed the modern interpretation that had been given to the pieces in the _Vision_ collection. Washing her hair, Maura listened to the blending of voices between world-renowned soprano and cloister-bound alto, thrilling at the intertwining of two such different vocal tones, both towards the same end. The Latin in which Hildegard had written her praises to God, Jesus, and – more than any other subject – the Virgin was not the high, formal Latin of the Church, but rather the plain street Latin of the Roman commoner. The dichotomy suggested to Maura, supported by various musicologists, that Hildegard's music was not about worship of something great and mighty, but rather, a very personal and intimate love that she felt, and only expressed religiously because an 11th Century nun could not use phrases of such strong, erotically charged imagery in any other context. The women who sang this music seemed to understand this about the original composer, or at least, to understand that vocal lushness was at least as appropriate as purity of timbre.

A ringing phone interrupted Maura's drying off, so she quickly wrapped the towel around her hair and turned off the music to dash to her phone. "Isles," she greeted, assuming that her day off was being disturbed by work, as usual. Instead, she quickly recognized the voice of Frankie Rizzoli.

_"Hey, Doc! Listen, sorry to bug you today, but I got a quick question while Janie thinks I'm in the bathroom."_

Maura smiled; she liked Frankie. He may not show the flashes of brilliance for which his older sister was known, but she knew him to be a devoted police officer, a loving son, an admiring brother, and a trustworthy man. She respected him. She was also intrigued. What could he possibly need, that would require subterfuge on his part? "I'm happy to help, if I can."

_"It's not about work. I have to ask you… Okay, this was easier when I was thinking about it in my head. Uh, look, maybe this should wait."_

Now Maura was _really_ intrigued. "No, Frankie, it's all right. Take your time. Is this a favor? You can always ask, and the worst I can say is no." He was unsure of himself, she knew, and she found it endearing, especially when compared with a lot of men she knew, self-assured to the point of arrogance. Someone who could still question himself and not always assume himself to be in the position of authority, right, or power was refreshing. It was a trait that Frankie shared with Jane.

Frankie hesitated again; his voice on the phone caught itself a couple of times before he eventually came right out with it. _"Do you like my sister?"_

"Of course I do," Maura replied easily as idly she headed back to the bathroom to complete her drying off and grooming. "She's my best friend, Frankie, you know that."

_"Yeah, but I mean do you _like_ her? You know, I'm not saying I believe every word I hear, but there have been words."_

Maura remained silent until it was clear that no more clarification would be forthcoming until she requested it. "Frankie, I'm not sure what you mean. Could you be more specific, or try alternate phrasings?"

Frankie sighed; Jane would tease him about how long he was spending 'in the bathroom' now. She wouldn't even realize he was doing her a favor. _"I mean… Look, Doc, I know I'm just a cop down at the precinct, and you don't have to tell me because this is real personal, but Janie's my sister and I kind of love her and all, and she's…"_ He paused. He couldn't do this, could he? He couldn't tell someone something about his sister without risking his own life if she ever found out about it, especially if he was wrong. _"Look, you two are close, right? Like best friends, and then some?"_

Maura hung up her towel and checked the mirror for any signs of dry skin, early wrinkles, grey hairs, or blemishes. "Yes, we're best friends. Then some what?"

_"Oh, Jesus,"_ Frankie muttered, barely audible, _"Jane wasn't kidding."_ He lifted his voice to normal volume again to specify,_" Are you dating my sister?"_

Maura slapped her stomach to test its tautness, then followed up with each thigh. Still firm. "Am I what? No." She was surprised, but then she considered. "Though I can see why you'd say that. We just enjoy one another's company. Why do you ask?"

Frankie sighed again. This wasn't going as planned. Still, he'd gone this far for his sister's sake, and he'd be damned if he'd let his own embarrassment get in the way of him doing his yearly good deed by her._ "Doc, I have to ask this, but you don't have to answer, okay? Just be thinking about it." _He took a deep breath._ "Do you _want_ to be dating my sister?" _Frankie paused then, listening to his sister's music switch over from Born This Way to Breakdown._ "Never mind, I have to go. But just think about it, okay?"_ The call ended with a beep.

Maura set down the phone next to her hairbrush, which she picked up in one hand while pressing PLAY on the sound system with the other. "That was odd," she remarked to no one but the dust bunnies that no longer lived in her home, and went on with her grooming.

But as the afternoon progressed, that question kept coming back to her. At the farmer's market, she mused over her dating record, as embarrassing in its own way as Jane's. She had a lot of first dates, in other words. While Jane lamented that few men thought of her as a woman, Maura's only possible conclusion was that men liked her look enough to want to take her out, but didn't like her personality enough to go through a second date – or, in several cases, even to last through the first one.

She paid for her fresh produce and drove home, enjoying the feeling of driving the car, a fine piece of German engineering, shifting gears smoothly. It was the same feeling as finding intriguing information during an autopsy, trying on the perfect dress, or spending time with the first person who had ever called her a friend before Maura had said the word, the first person to ever consider her a _best_ friend. Maura ran down synonyms for the words in her mind while waiting at a stop light, amusing herself by putting the most relevant ones in alphabetical order. Best: ace, beyond compare, boss, capital, champion, chief, choicest, first, foremost, highest, incomparable, leading, matchless, nonpareil, optimum, paramount, preeminent, superlative, transcendent, unparalleled, unrivaled, unsurpassed. Friend: ally, associate, companion, consort, familiar, soul mate. Best friend. As the light changed to green, she put her foot on the pedal and pressed, hand resting on the gear shift with light, easy command. That, too, reminded her of Jane, and suddenly the act of driving was charged.

At home, the doctor sliced fruit for her own salad and one for her African spurred tortoise. The smells of the fruit came to her, pungent and sweet. The citrus reminded Maura of Jane's body spray, which she'd worn to the Fairfields' memorial service, their double date with yoga classmates, and a blind date with whom Angela Rizzoli had ambushed her – after which she'd come back to Maura's to ask what was wrong with her. A Honey Crisp apple, juicy and tangy, reminded her of the clean, sharp lines of Jane's figure and facial features, and the sharp way that Jane would dress, when she was trying. It was ridiculous how good she looked in off-the-rack clothing, even without any tailoring. The cross-section of a strawberry made her pause all thought and just look at the richness of all that red, with the white center shaped like an almond, or the sloping archway of a narrow cathedral door, or… Oh. _Oh._

She picked up her phone and scrolled through her contacts list.

_"Rizzoli."_

"It's Maura," said the woman in a voice she hoped was more confident than she felt. Frankie had never called her by her first name, but she kept offering it in the hope that he would eventually feel comfortable using it, at least when not at work. Heavy breathing interrupted the flow of her thoughts, and she paused to ask, "Is this a bad time?"

Frankie grinned as he stepped further away from the shed he was painting, making certain Jane was busy clipping the hedges and unable to hear him. _"Nah, Doc, I'm just touching up the tool shed in the back yard. We're doing some yard stuff for Ma and Pop. What can I do for you?"_

The question stalled her for a moment. What in the world could he possibly do? Maura proceeded in spite of a lack of foreknowledge or plan. "I just wanted to ask what that earlier phone call was about. I don't know if you remember what we discussed…"

Frankie stifled laughter. _"Sure, I remember. Got some more questions for me?"_

"Ah… Yes. Yes, I think I do." Maura bent down to set Bass's bowl on the floor, with its selection of fruit morsels from her own fruit salad. Only then did she dress her salad with agave nectar, balsamic vinegar, and some very light spicing. "Or, really, just one question. Why did you ask me… those things?"

_"Oh, I don't know, Doc, I don't think I should be saying. I'm just looking out for Janie. I know you're her best friend." _As Frankie spoke, Maura's mind immediately filled in _treasured companion, choicest associate, unrivaled consort_, before realizing fully that those synonyms could also be applied to phrases indicative of other types of relationship.

Frankie went on, _"I was just wondering if there was anything else going on. Or anything that should be going on, but isn't, because Janie's got some hang-ups, but I really think she's, you know, she likes you and you like her, and really, what's the difference between what you've already got and just a little bit more? And people already think… Um, I mean, you're already so close. I mean, every time Janie used to get scared, she'd come home, but now she goes over to your place. You know how long it's been since she let anybody hold her hands? Even Ma? She does it with you all the time. I mean, I know girls do that, but Jane's not your basic, average girl. She's never been real touchy-feely, but every time you're around, she acts like she is. She's, like, all over you. I mean, in a friendly way. Not that it's like… But not that it isn't, either, you get me?"_

Maura, nonplussed, stood for a moment, in a kitchen silent except for the quiet munching sounds coming from Bass, until she realized a response was in order. "I comprehend what you're saying, but I have to say no. We're not romantically interested in one another."

But as she spoke, Maura wondered at the veracity of her own statement. Was she, in fact, interested in Jane? Dating women, or being interested in them, hadn't been a part of her experiences. Other than a strong feeling that rights and equality were important to a society that wanted to continue to thrive, she held no real awareness of gender, other than that no women had ever approached her, nor had she ever approached a woman. Or, really, anyone. Men didn't wait long enough for her to need to take the first step. She was pretty; they asked her out.

She'd seen plenty of women naked, of course. Boarding school, university, and medical school had all conspired to place her in plenty of group showers, and while she'd had moments of admiring the work someone obviously put into exercise, or occasionally wishing that she'd had that girl's hair, that girl's abdominal tone, that woman's legs, it hadn't occurred to her to look for anything else. Nor had the various corpses she had handled over the years, because whatever humanity those bodies had once held, by the time they got to her table, they were simply luggage. Uninteresting. They held medical mysteries for her, but not personal ones.

Maybe she ought to give the idea some thought, though, she reflected. She had no objection to the notion; it just hadn't occurred to her that she could actually take active interest in the other half of the human species. It was never on the table.

But had it occurred to Jane? Maura wasn't much for gossip, but when people engaged in the practice within her hearing, she couldn't very well plug her ears and run away. She'd heard rumors that Jane was lesbian or bisexual. But what female police officer hadn't been called those things, or at least some very unflattering synonyms for those things? It was one of the hazards of the job. There wasn't much in it, usually, just a way for perps to ruffle a cop, or for male cops to get their little passive-aggressive digs in with a woman who was promoted more quickly than themselves.

Yes, Jane was strong, independent, confident, self-assured. Those were all desirable traits for any person to have, and none were predicated on a person's sexuality. Yes, she dressed a certain way, but then, so would anyone who could boast a figure like Jane's. Being tall, being thin, having chiseled features – again, attractive, but why should those things indicate anyone's sexual or emotional orientation?

Then came the one piece of 'evidence' which Maura could not discount or explain away. _Why did Frankie call her earlier?_ Right now, in the middle of the Rizzoli siblings' day off, while they were busy doing yard work for their parents? Right now, while Jane was probably just barely out of earshot, no doubt risking life and limb if she should walk near enough to overhear what he was saying? Right now, rather than waiting until Monday? Right now, while Jane was right nearby, dirty, toiling, sweating, thirsty, swearing, out of breath, hands wrapped around the handle of a rake or shovel, or plunged into the soil as she planted bulbs, sun beating down on her tanned shoulders…

Now, wasn't _that_ a mental image? Maura felt something inside herself give. _What if?_ she wondered, and didn't even stop to think about how much she normally hated statements that began that way. _Just suppose?_ She licked her lips.

_"…sure?"_

Maura caught herself just as she heard the tail-end of Frankie's question. "I… I mean, I never considered it. It was never an option. I don't really think it would… I mean, it _might_, but… It's, I just, I don't know, I just never considered…"

Frankie grinned. He didn't need any more answers than that. _"Well, look, we're going to be finishing up here in a couple hours at most. Oh, hey, don't you guys usually watch a movie on Saturday nights?"_ Genius. He could almost forget that he hadn't even planned it that way, because of how well it was working out.

"Of course," Maura replied, barely aware, and rang off. She had a lot of thinking to do, and not enough time in which to do it before she'd need to pick up Jane for movie night. For one thing, it was definitely time for a different outfit.

* * *

><p>Frankie's car started up in the driveway, and Maura listened to it idle for a moment, then pull out of the driveway. She went to put away Jane's water in the fridge to keep it cold while Jane showered, then sat down at the counter to await her friend while firmly avoiding thinking about the fact that, just a few yards away, that same friend was stripping out of her sweaty work clothes, finding her tan lines made all the more bold by the day spent under the hot sun. She'd be washing them to faintness, as well, since much of the color would come from the dirt. There would be soap, bubbles and slipperiness, and a rough loofah or body brush to slough away the grim, leaving skin sensitive and fresh.<p>

Maura closed her eyes as if that could possibly stop her mind from filling with images, the like of which she had never considered at all, but it didn't help. Suddenly that was all she could think. Astonishing. One question from Frankie, and suddenly she was a roiling stew of hormones, waiting to boil over and splash all around. She shifted on the kitchen stool, uncrossing and recrossing her legs.

Heated, darkened eyes flew open again as she heard the door open behind her and Frankie re-entered. Why had she not heard his car returning? _A little preoccupied,_ she reminded herself, grateful she did not typically blush. Sitting up a little straighter, she wondered, "Did you forget something?"

"No," Frankie replied, though he did pick up the water bottle he'd left on the counter and pour some down his throat. "Not really. I just wanted to make sure you knew what was up."

Maura watched Frankie take a long pull from the ice-cold bottle of water that she'd brought; Jane's sat on the counter, barely opened. She put it in the fridge and turned back to face her best friend's brother. "You spoke to her before calling me, didn't you?" she asked, tone suggesting, albeit gently, that he better have done so.

"Yeah," Frankie replied once he'd swallowed fully half of his water and mopped his damp forehead with part of his shirt. "She said—"

"Don't tell me," Maura was quick to interrupt. "I know that whatever she said, she meant it to be in confidence, so you can't disclose any details."

Frankie took a moment to think about what to say, for which Maura was grateful. "Sis thinks she's not good at relationships. She doesn't like trusting people, and she doesn't like talking about feelings. She doesn't waste a lot of time messing around with anything that's not for a purpose she understands. She's efficient, you know? You make her slow down, take her time. She sees more because you remind her how to look." Maura listened, stunned, as this good, intelligent, but normally inarticulate man schooled her. "She's always looked so tough, but I get the feeling it's just because she's scared to put herself out there for anybody else to see. Around you, she's not scared to be scared. You know? If she acts tough around you, it's because she _feels_ tough, and not like the rest of us, where she just has to _look_ tough."

"Esse quam videri. To be, rather than to seem. It's one of the highest character traits to which anyone can aspire." Genuinely touched, Maura pressed a hand to her chest and suppressed a light sniff. "You're a good man, Frankie, and a good brother."

Frankie grinned the infamous Rizzoli grin, the one to which Maura never failed to respond; the siblings' father also had that grin once in a while. "Yeah, well, I owe her. She beat up a bunch of bullies for me when we were kids, till I got big enough for her to teach me how to do it myself. And speaking of beatings, she's going to give me one if she sees me when she gets down here, so I'm going to jet. Just, you know… She might need you to hit her in the head with a brick. A really big brick." With that, the youngest Rizzoli sauntered back outside, leaving Maura to the fantasy he was fairly certain he'd interrupted. He felt a certain pride in having set all this into motion. "Frankie-boy," he muttered to himself as he drove away, "she is going to owe you, bigtime."

* * *

><p><strong>A co-written chapter of the the dinner and such is forth coming<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Co-written chapter to complete the series. I really love writing with Googlemouth. I'm so glad I found my Maura... as far as writing partners go. ^_^**

**Of course, the characters aren't ours.  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Sitting in the kitchen waiting for Jane to come back down, Maura glanced out the window. She had dressed down, relatively speaking, in a peach-colored knit dress that was just barely different from her skin tone; it had probably matched almost exactly when she'd bought it earlier in the spring, before her tan had come in fully. The skirt was longer than she usually wore, mid-calf length, and also fuller, and the neckline was higher than usual as well. Despite the uncovered arms, the dress had a very faintly 1950s modesty about it. Anyone could have accessorized with a bronze leather purse and jewelry of white-gold; very few would have been able to consider, let alone carry off, the strappy red heeled sandal below. Her hair was loosely bound in a tasteful clip at the nape of her neck, curls large and wild at the free end and at the front, where tendrils had escaped their filigree prison. The ensemble was very summer-resort chic, vacation-smart, and it showcased her physique without becoming classless or explicit.<p>

"Maura, I'm thinking Italian, what do you think?" The detective asked as she walked down the stairs, drying her wet hair with a towel. "Ma cooked some kind of Asian something on Sunday, and I've been eating Salads by Jake, thank you," she held the towel up to give Maura a dirty look, "for most of this week, so I'm kind of craving good pasta and some cannoli." She stopped just inside the kitchen, still working on her hair, her jeans neither zipped nor buttoned. Though difficult to tell the cut, her cotton underwear clearly matched the black cotton t-shirt she was wearing. Her bare feet made light sounds against the kitchen floor as she moved further in toward the fridge. "I'm not really dressed for anything fancy. What about Roma's on 6th?" She put the white towel around her neck, opened the fridge, bent over, and began digging around from something. "Maura?"

Maura sat at the kitchen counter, a glass of ice water in front of her, and as she stared out the window at the much brighter outdoors, where Jane's hard work had paid off in a neat, tidy yard with fresh plantings and sharp, clean paint on the shed. She did not, at first, seem to notice Jane's entrance, merely humming a light "Mm?" to show she'd heard, but her focus was elsewhere. It was a hot day, and she tilted her head to one side to hold her cold, sweating glass against her jugular vein to grant her the illusion of cooling her down. However, the repetition of her name caused her to turn and look.

...and stare.

Her lips parted ever so slightly. "Italian," she vaguely recalled, out of Jane's entire ramble, forcing her eyes to remain on Jane's face rather than drifting down towards the unexpected extra flash of skin below the detective's waist. Then she smiled, smoothly clicking into her usual demeanor. "That sounds delicious. Shall we take it back to my place, or would you prefer to eat out?"

"I don't know," Jane scrunched her face up in contemplation as she closed the fridge door with her foot, bottle of water in hand. "I could always eat out with you. It's fun to watch you confuse the waiters, but," she took a large gulp of water, "I'm really tired. That," she motioned with her head toward the backyard, "was a monster." She ran a hand through her wet hair, tilting her head back as she did so, causing the long expanse of her neck to show for just the briefest of seconds as she ran her fingers through to keep the locks from tangling. "I really don't want to blow dry my hair, either," she gave the doctor an apologetic look. "So, if we did eat out, would you hold it against me if I just went like this?" She held her arms out and glanced down at her outfit. "Shit, Maura, why didn't you tell me my fly was down?" She threw the other woman an annoyed look. Quickly, she walked to the counter where the doctor sat, plopped her water bottle down, and reached to correct the wardrobe issue.

Maura's smile warmed and broadened. "I'd have told you before we left the house," she promised, then stood up to run her fingers through Jane's hair, smoothing down some of the wildness and twisting certain parts of it into more controlled curl. Then she proved that, in addition to the smile, she also lacked control over her words. "Hold still... There. We can go out, and you look fine. You don't have to do anything special to look gorgeous. But why don't I just call in an order while you find your shoes, and we can pick it up and take it back to my place. Better yet, your place. Joe Friday needs more companionship, and I've already fed Bass. Since you're so tired and sore, you probably just need to lounge at home tonight."

Batting at Maura's hands, Jane leaned away, defensively trying to protect her hair. "Do you mind? What _is _it with you and Ma and my hair?" She rolled her eyes, but a smiled played in her eyes and on her lips.

Reluctantly Maura's hands fell away from Jane's hair, and she briefly allowed disappointment at the broken contact to show. "I like your hair," she explained patiently. You know, if you like, I can treat your blisters as well as your sore muscles. You worked so hard today that I'm sure you have a few."

Jane made a disgusted face at the thought of blisters. "Yeah… I guess we could do that. Now that you mention it, my back is killing me and my hands," she shook her head, face dropping from playful to serious for the briefest of moments before she forced herself back again, "Maybe we can go out tomorrow? We could see that movie you've been hounding me about." She sighed, grabbing the towel from around her neck, letting her still damp hair brush across her back, leaving dark marks on her black t-shirt. Again, Maura's hands reached up to adjust a lock or two of dark, damp hair, though she had to sneak past Jane's defenses to do it.

The brunette let out a sigh before turning on her heels and starting back to the stairs. "Man, my back really does hurt," she grumbled, "Times like this I wish I knew a masseuse." Stopping at the foot of the stairs, she turned around to finish her earlier thoughts.

"Oh, let me," Maura suggested with a smile. "I like touching you." There it was again, the lack of filter. Normal people didn't say things like that, past the age of about three. The problem with her wasn't social awkwardness, it was a lack of awkwardness. She saw nothing amiss with saying anything.

Eyebrows shooting up, Jane gave her friend a questioning look before responding. "I'll think about it," she said, her voice very guarded. "So, take out tonight, we're staying at my place, and movie tomorrow?"

"Yes," replied the honey-blonde, turning towards the counter to grab the phone from her purse. "I'll call in for dinner while you get your shoes. Don't forget to hang the towel to dry properly." Before Jane could even object to being ordered like a child, Maura had pressed the contact number for Roma's. "Hello, I'd like to arrange an order for pickup, please..."

* * *

><p>By the time Jane was back at her apartment and had finished walking Joe for the evening, Maura had arrived. "Glad to know the spare key works," Jane muttered as she walked in, putting the leash up on its spot by the door. "Smells good. Anything I can do to help?"<p>

"Not a thing," Maura said as she placed the last touch on the dining table. There were two plates, each laden with steaming penne pasta with vegetables and marinara sauce, two glasses of a blush wine that she'd picked up from her own home, and two butterflied chicken breasts, pan-seared and lightly seasoned with a combination of spices that the restaurant owner had jealously guarded all the way from his great-great-grand-whatever in Liguria, still known in their family as The Old Neighborhood. Flowers from Maura's back yard garden rested on the kitchen counter, tall enough that they would have provided a conversational impediment, but at least their lush scents and colors would brighten the room - lilies of scarlet, orange, and white, interspersed unusually with peonies.

A pair of tall white taper candles lit the stage to either side of the plates, rather than between them, so that they would be able to converse without being blinded by the flames; but the tablecloth was the red and white checked one that Mrs. Rizzoli had insisted would be perfect for picnics. It lent an informal air to what otherwise might have seemed a little much for just a pair of friends staying in for the night. The only thing lacking was a violinist. Here Maura had parted with what could have become all too obvious symbolism, though it might have been due to a dearth of violinists who could appear at a moment's notice. Instead, she had plugged her phone into Jane's speakers, and hit play with a smile, evidently satisfied with the effects she had achieved in such a short amount of time.

_A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square - The Manhattan Transfer  
>Addicted - Kelly Clarkson<br>After Midnight - Chicago Soundtrack_

"Wow, Maura, this looks," Jane hesitated, obviously deciding not to go with her first thought, "nice. I didn't even know I still had that tablecloth." She leaned against the wall to pull her shoes and socks off. "I'm going to go wash my hands, and," she considered the scene in front of her again, "stuff." Her voice was a little dazed as she headed to her bathroom. "Be back in a minute."

Maura's smile faltered a little as Jane left, wearing an expression she could not quite identify. Her brows drew together as if in consultation. What had tipped the balance into 'too much'? Candles? Flowers? She tilted her head to the side and contemplated the flowers. Peonies, her neighbor had told her before allowing her to take some, symbolized bashfulness in the west, honor in China, and bravery in Japan. The three colors of lily stood for purity, high-souled aspirations, and passionate desire. _Aha_. That must be the source of the upset. She quickly moved to pick up the vase and put the flowers in the kitchen sink and turned on the water to add a few more drops so that she could say truthfully that she had wanted to refill them. Once they were out of sight, she sat down and awaited Jane's return.

Jane emerged a moment later. Pulling her hands above her head, she stretched her back out as she glanced around the room, eyes falling on the sink. "Hmmm," she gave a thoughtful hum as she lowered her arms, pulling her shirt down where it had ridden up her torso. "I didn't know you were a Kelly Clarkson fan, Maura. You strike me more as a Schuman or Eric Whitaker fan."

"I like them, too," Maura answered lightly, despite the distraction of that peekaboo skin at Jane's midsection, "but they're in a different playlist."

Jane sat down across from the doctor, gazing down at the food. "This looks exactly like," she glanced back up, eyes quickly meeting and then pulling away from the other woman's, "what I want." The detective frowned, her voice settling on a quiet squeak, as she pretended to check the kitchen for something. "So... we should... we should eat."

With no more than a smile of easy acceptance, Maura picked up her fork and began the meal. "This might be too much," she said after taking and swallowing a bite, "but they knew it was for you, so they made the portions large enough to have leftovers. Try to save some room for the cannoli." The sweet, hot jazz of the _Chicago _soundtrack faded, only to be replaced with the first thrumming of a bass guitar played in leisurely fashion.

_Ain't No Sunshine - Bill Withers  
>Air On A G String - J. S. Bach<br>All Or Nothing - Athena Cage  
>Any Time, Any Place - Janet Jackson<em>

The companionable silence of their dinner was suddenly disrupted as Jane's head shot around to look at her speakers as if they could answer her unspoken question. "Any time... any place?" Dark eyebrows rose in surprise and confusion. "Really, Maura? I mean, that's," her speech was stilted as she searched for each word, "just not... what I would... expect from you. It's just, huh," she took a sip of her wine. "Maur, when did you make this playlist anyway? I've heard your stuff, and I do_ not_ remember _that_ song." She gently set her glass back down. "I would have remembered _that_ song." She watched the doctor's face with a look of curiosity and something darker that would have gone unnoticed by most people Jane knew.

Coughing sounds from across the table signaled Maura's rising, hurriedly dabbing her lips with her napkin on the way to the control panel, where she quickly pressed the fast-forward key. "I probably shouldn't have put that on my public playlist," she murmured, not quite meeting Jane's eyes as she headed back towards the table, only to reverse again as Joan Jett's _Bad Reputation _filled the room. She clicked forward to land on things she hoped would be less troublesome, one that she had recalled Jane enjoyed.

_Bad Romance - Lady Gaga  
>Bad Things - Jace Everett<br>Back For A Taste Of Your Love - Jonny Lang  
>Blue Rondo a la Turk - The Dave Brubeck Quartet<br>Buttons - Pussycat Dolls_

The songs played as the pair ate, mostly just enjoying their wine and pasta, until another problematic song came on. Maura's lips pursed, but she didn't move the music forward this time. "It's just one song," she remarked as the Pussycat Dolls began their vocal gyrations. Perhaps she should have chosen a different playlist; but it was a bit late to alter it now without Jane asking why. Damned if she did, and damned if she didn't.

"You been stealing songs from my player, Maura?" Jane quirked an eyebrow at the doctor as the song played.

"Maybe," Maura replied with a small, downward-glancing smile as she speared a single piece of penne with the tines of her fork and slipped it between her lips.

"You know, I really like PCD. I'm just in the closet about it because I don't want to hear it from the guys." Her eyes darted down, focusing on anything besides the woman across from her. "You ever hear their song _Sway_? Only time I've ever wanted to learn how to cha cha." She gave a closed, private smile as she looked down at her plate.

Maura looked back up in time to see that smile, and, without making an intentional choice, echoed it back. "I love that song, and yes, I got most of their songs from your collection, but I think that one is in another playlist. You know, I could show you how to cha cha sometime. Or tango. Or anything, really." Mistaking Jane's look as being for another reason, she laughed lightly. "Why is it so surprising that I'd know how to dance? I took cotillion."

"That's not," Jane cleared her throat, "um, not what I was thinking, Maur. But, maybe I'll take you up on that offer some time?"

_Cheap And Evil Girl - Bree Sharp  
>Crazy - Britney Spears<br>Crazy On You - Heart  
>Crimson And Clover - Joan Jett<br>Crush - Glee Cast_

Finishing with her meal, Jane stood to start placing her leftovers away. As the next song came on, she gave a little snort of amusement. "I remember this coming out when I was in middle school, I think. Man, I was crushing _hard_ on Sar… um this person, and I would play this over and over. Frankie finally snuck into my room and stole my tape," she shook her head at the memory, a smile gracing her features. "You ever do that? Play a song over and over because it fit your mood?" She finished placing her entrée in the airtight container, turning to place it in the fridge for later. "You probably listened to some Mozart something, didn't you?"

Maura let Jane deal with the leftovers, though she did hand over some containers in which to store them, before clearing the dinner wine and putting out a hard pear cider to go with the cannoli she had brought at Jane's request. "Mm," she replied noncommittally at the mention of Mozart. "With Mozart, I listened to him when I was in a mood to appreciate applied mathematics. But there are times when that doesn't match the mood I'm in, or the direction in which I want to steer my thoughts. Music is very meditative for me that way. It has to mesh with my mental state, my emotions, something I want to say, or some subject I want to contemplate."

_Dirty Little Secret - All-American Rejects_

_Dream A Little Dream - Mama Cass_

_Love In An Elevator – Aerosmith_

"Maura," Jane's voice was as guarded as it had been earlier when the doctor has offered to rub her back earlier in the day, "what playlist _is_ this?" She held up a cannoli, looking at it was some trepidation before running a finger through the cream coming from one end. "I mean, have you even had love in an elevator?" She licked the cream from her fingertip, her eyes narrowing at the doctor. "You know what, don't answer that. I'm sure I want to know." Brows knit in what looked like extreme concentration, she stared down at the dessert in her hand trying to figure out how she wanted to eat it.

Maura chuckled without answering as she picked up her own cannoli, delicately with two fingers and a thumb. Her eyes closed as she licked a little of the caramel drizzle off the top of the long, crisp cylinder. "Aerosmith are one of my favorite bands. They're incredible, technical musicians whose compositions are majestic and whose skills are of an extremely high level." She enjoyed another lick, this time at the cocoa-dusted tip end of the dessert. "Besides," she said with a mischievous look in her eye, "I enjoy Love In An Elevator."

Jane's eyes widened, and she gave a hard swallow to the bit of cannoli she's just bitten off. "Mrph," she made a light, incoherent sound as she tried not to choke.

At Jane's response, the honey-blonde smiled and made a mental note to say _Good morning, Mr. Tyler _the next time she rode the elevator down to the morgue with Jane. "A fun song." She switched the cannoli to the other hand, having not thought ahead to realize that her wineglass of cider was on the same side. Then, when both hands were occupied and the Aerosmith song ended, the next song began. "I like this one, too. It's one of my favorites, actually. I love the artist's fingering technique and the way she manipulates her voice for the effect."

_Drive - Melissa Ferrick_

Inhaling audibly as the song played, Jane put her half eat dessert down and quickly gulped down about half her cider. "Okay, I can't even… I mean," she stood up, nearly knocking her chair over as she moved. Walking into the living room, she chewed at the corner of her lip, her face full of a number of emotions, uncertainty chief among them. "I think I need to take a moment to," she glanced around, searching for something, "fix my back." She rolled her eyes at the unconvincing sound of her own voice. "I'm just going to lay in the floor for a sec and see if I can pop it."

"Don't do that," Maura replied rapidly as she set down her glass and dessert, dusting off her fingers on her napkin and hurriedly girl-tippytoe-running to prevent such a faux pas. "I did promise to take care of that for you, and I am _not_ doing it on the floor. The bed will be much more comfortable." At the hesitation, she smiled, almost but not quite like she always did when suggesting that Jane wipe her feet on the mat, or consider going out on a double-date with her, or that she might be due for another yoga session or jog. As if there could possibly be only one, perfectly clean interpretation of what she was about to say. "Go on. Get on the bed."

"Um… okay," Jane glanced at the speakers again before turning to go to her bedroom. "Anything special I should do for this? You're not going to hurt me, are you? I can't promise I won't do something… questionable if you hurt me," She glanced back at the doctor. "Like, you know, scream really loud or something."

"I can't answer for any sounds you may make... but I can promise I won't hurt you." She considered her next words for a little longer than one might expect, head tilted to one side, before coming to the safest and easiest conclusion. "Do whatever you need to do to feel comfortable."

Rolling her eyes, the brunette walked away from the living room and into her bedroom.

_For My Lover - Tracy Chapman_

_Give Me One Reason - Tracy Chapman_

In the bedroom, Jane gave a contemptuous snort. "Of course she'd say that," she muttered to herself. Glancing around, she took a quick mental inventory of what she should probably wear so that Maura could actually work on her back. "_Shit_, no way this is going to turn out well," she grumbled to herself. "Hold on a sec," she yelled as she unbuttoned her pants and kicked them off. After a half second's pause, she pulled her shirt off and removed her bra, throwing them in the pile with her pants. Self-consciously wrapping her arms over her chest, she nervously glanced around her room again. "Ooooookay," she let out a long stream of air. "Shorts." She pulled out the shorts she normally wore to softball games and put them on. "Shirt?" She frowned. "How would she get to my back if… _damn it_." She let out a heavy sigh of frustration. "I give." Climbing onto her bed and settling face down in the middle, still shirtless, she called back to the waiting doctor, "Okay, I'm ready. There's some oil in the bathroom if you want to use it."

Though she could hear muttering, Maura could not distinguish words, and so she waited with outward patience through three songs until Jane called to her. At that point, she realized that she, too, would need to do what was necessary for her own comfort, which was going to be a problem, because she didn't know what that was. She walked softly to the bedroom and stopped at the open door...

_I Don't Stand A Ghost Of A Chance - Linda Ronstadt and The Nelson Riddle Orchestra_

...and stood.

And stared.

Her left hand rested on the door frame, then gripped it tightly for a moment for its steadying power. "God help me," whispered the devout atheist at the sight of the lean, tan woman stretched out in the center of the bed, suddenly and acutely aware of the difference between the simple, uncomplicated nudity of standard massages and the acknowledged eroticism of a mostly-naked woman protecting her virtue with one inadequate scrap of black cotton.

_I Put A Spell On You - Queen Latifah_

Maura's eyes closed momentarily as she engaged in a quickie meditation, breath slowing and stilling. She had made her bed, which was in this case Jane's actual bed, and now would have to deal with Jane lying in it. Her shoulders squared, and she removed her shoes at the door before padding towards the bathroom to fetch the oil Jane had mentioned. By the time she had located it, in the bottom drawer and towards the back, she had been able to recover her usual easy demeanor. "Could you put your arms out to your sides," she requested with a smile, knowing that smiles were audible in the voice even when they couldn't be seen. "Thank you. Now, tell me where you're most strained."

"My shoulders and lower back, mostly," Jane answered. As Maura began to work, the detective couldn't stop the small moans and gasps of appreciation from escaping.

_I Take You With Me - Melissa Etheridge_

_I Want to Come Over - Melissa Etheridge_

_I'm Not Wearing Any Underwear Today - Avenue Q_

The tension was easing from Jane's back with the ministration of Maura's surprisingly strong and agile hands when the Avenue Q song came on. Jane instantly tensed. The deep, guttural moan that was rolling from her chest cut short, she commented in a breathy tone, "I can't listen to that while you doing this." She whispered in a somewhat pained voice. "Not… relaxing."

Quick as a frightened bunny, Maura started talking as she sprang from her position, hoping her words would drown out the song. "Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry," over and over until she could click fast-forward past just the openings of more songs, only listening long enough to assure herself that these, too, were entirely inappropriate.

_I'm So Excited - Pointer Sisters_

_I've Got A Crush On You - Linda Ronstadt and The Nelson Riddle Orchestra_

Eventually she hit one that was safe, a lullabye written for the composer's very young daughter, followed by - if she recalled correctly - an old jazz standard that was more melancholy than suggestive. Melancholia was not the emotion she hoped would reign, but it was better than the string of problematic ones. She returned to the bed and seated herself, still murmuring, "...sorry, sorry. I didn't realize, it's just that it's all in alphabetical order, and I never really considered the _cumulative_ effect, and... Anyway, I hope this is all right now." With uncharacteristic hesitancy, she placed her hand again in the middle of Jane's lower back, stilling and calming them both for a moment before returning to the task of healing. It was, she reflected, nice to get to help the living once in a while. Exhilarating medically, and comforting personally. Not all the time, not every living person, but with Jane she was not intimidated or uncomfortable, even when she was... uncomfortable.

_Kiss From A Rose - Seal_

_Lullabye (Good Night, My Angel) - Billy Joel_

_Natural Woman - Aretha Franklin_

_Right Where You Want Me - Jesse McCartney_

"Oh, God," Jane groaned as Maura hit a particularly sensitive spot on her lower back, "that is _exactly_ where I want you to be." Little, incoherent grunting and groaning sounds continued to issue from the brunette. "Maura, your hands are magic. I wish my abs felt as good as my back does right now." She let out a hum of appreciation. "Seriously, wow."

Palms pressed, fingertips probed and felt for knots, knuckles dug. Maura's manner with a living patient was extremely awkward, according to her own words, but she did have an amazing touch, and she held nothing back. Anyone who felt her ministrations would have felt cared for, nurtured. It was really only words that tripped her up, probably because she knew so many and used them all - with their precise meanings, often unaware of connotations that could be perceived differently from their intended ones. Such as now. "I can get those too, if you turn over," she offered, the innocuous songs having lulled her into mental relaxation such that the suggestion seemed quite the reasonable thing to her.

However, as Jane started moving to comply, Maura had a sudden burst of normality in her thinking, and she quickly placed a slick hand on the muscular, tanned shoulder. "Let me get you something, first." Moving slowly so as not to dispel the easy atmosphere that had settled back over the two friends, she stood and walked to the linen cabinet in the hall to pull out a pair of towels, both old and soft, one quite large. "Here, take these. I'll turn my back. Stand up, put the larger towel underneath you to protect the bedspread, and then lie down with the smaller towel over... anything you feel the need to cover."

"Oh, right, that's probably a good idea," Jane frowned as she watched the doctor turn around.

_Secret Agent - Melissa Etheridge_

_She Bop (acoustic) - Cyndi Lauper_

_Shed Your Skin - Indigo Girls_

"Okay, Maura, I think I got this." Jane lay on her back, the large towel under her and the small towel lay across her chest to cover her modesty. She had her hands at her side. Giving a little grunt, she looked down her body to the foot of the bed, making a small pained face at having to scrunch up her abs to do so. Her muscles in her torso tensed, displaying the well-defined musculature there. "Where do I put my hands?" She flexed her hands, her arm muscles tensing.

_Short Skirt Long Jacket - Cake_

_Smooth – Santana_

"Wherever you like. Don't worry, I'll take care of them, too, in good time." promised Maura with a smile as she turned around and sat back down, hip bone to hip bone with Jane, and renewed her oil supply. This time she poured one handful, lay that hand in the center of Jane's abdomen, and slowly parted her fingers to let the oil dribble out between them onto the warm skin. The sensation was an odd one, like a very localized version of a 'gentle rainwater' shower head, easy to enjoy and hard to quantify. Strong fingers slowed even more than what they had been upon Jane's back; Maura didn't want her getting tickled, giggly, and tense all over again.

A frontal massage was an odd thing, a delicate and fragile balance between muscle and organ rather than the back's muscle and bone. Fragile, too, was the balance between personal connection and propriety. Maura's eyes remained on her hands as they worked, rather than invading her friend's privacy by watching her face, her eyes. "Tell me if anything doesn't feel right," she said after a moment of extremely gentle touch which eased the sore muscles but did not place undue compression on the abdomen's tender organs. "I don't want to put too much pressure here." The double meaning was intentional.

_Tangled Up In Blue - Indigo Girls_

_Teenage Dream - Katy Perry, Glee version_

Maura's smile was gentle, but with a touch of sheepishness. "I like _a cappella_ choirs."

"Okay, I'll let that slide," Jane said in a light, comfortable tone, "but who is your teenage dream?" She smirked.

Strong hands paused, thumbs at the fronts of the pelvic bones, fingers around the sides. A beat went by. Two. The hands resumed their motions, and only then did Maura's eyes lift towards Jane's. She said nothing, though her face and neck took on a faint tinge of pink.

"Maura?" Jane had been kidding, but the silence had turned odd. "Hey," she sat up, placing a hand against her chest to keep the towel in place. "I didn't mean to upset you." The detective's expressive face shifted from relaxed to concerned. "I'm sorry." She reached out with her right hand, the free one, to grasp one of Maura's.

_Yes I Am - Melissa Etheridge_

Though her oil-slick fingers welcomed the opportunity to tangle in Jane's, Maura assured her, "You didn't upset me, Jane. Nothing has upset me today." She slipped one hand up Jane's strong, slender forearm, a nonverbal suggestion to lay back again if such was her inclination, and then both hands moved to pick up one of Jane's scarred and now blistered hands to sooth the day's aches out of where she knew they were the strongest. In many ways, the touch of her hands was the most deeply familiar kind of touch the two women shared between them, the most personal thing they ever shared. Maura knew that, and though most of the time she tried to pretend it was nothing so that Jane would not be made uneasy by acknowledging the communion of those moments, this time she did not conceal her knowledge. Again she requested softly, "Tell me if anything feels wrong."

The song in the back ground filtered through Jane's consciousness. "I… this song," she glanced in the direction of the sound. "It's…. it's really… intimate, isn't it?" Her face tensed.

"Very," replied Maura with a smile that did not, quite, dare to be hopeful.

Jane rolled her hand over, palm up. Her dark eyes watched Maura's strong yet delicate fingers work the always sore muscles of her palm. They remained quiet as the dark haired brunette watched and contemplated. "The last guy I dated," she began in a quiet voice, eyes still trained on the fingers and thumbs running over her hand, "offered to do this for me… rub me down, I mean. I had just finished training for the yearly physical, and I passed it. You remember?" She quickly glanced up, saw the doctor nod affirmation, and glanced back down. "I thought about it for about three seconds before I turned him down flat." Her voice became quieter, more intense. "It wasn't him touching me. I mean, we were sleeping together, so those boundaries pretty much didn't exist. I just… I knew eventually he'd come to my hands, and I didn't want him touching _my hands_." She swallowed, giving herself a small pause before continuing. As she spoke again, her voice was small, quiet. "It didn't _feel_ right… him touching them. It was like it was _too_ intimate, which is weird because, I mean, how much more intimate can you get than sleeping with the other person?" She closed her eyes as her mind wandered back to the scene of him offering and her declining. When she spoke again, her voice was reserved, reflective. "You've always been different from the others."

The music paused, then began again from the beginning of the playlist. Maura seemed not to even hear it; her eyes were focused intently on the face of the woman to whom she had become so attached and so open, who was in turn focused on their hands as they respectively gave and received relief. She said nothing at all for a very long time, merely allowing her eyes to rest in the visual feast that was Jane and only her hands to do the active communicating. Tendons eased; muscles relaxed. The feeling would be temporary, as always, but the cessation of pain was one she would never stop enjoying being able to give to her only regular patient, her only best friend, her...

Earlier in the day she had said almost that exact thing, easily and without thinking of all the connotations it might carry. This time, she was aware, and her voice lowered in both volume and pitch with the weight of all of the implications and allusions. "Thank you," Maura said, and though she'd meant to speak quietly, she hadn't meant to whisper. Her throat was dry. She swallowed and tried again. "Thank you for trusting me to touch you. I love touching you."

With an almost bashful air, Jane looked up through her lowered eyelashes. "Thank you for not hurting me." Jane's voice was still low, still quiet, still contemplative.

"Never," replied Maura, husky with a low rush of emotion. "Never." Slowly, both hands stilled upon Jane's, though she still cradled that scarred, beautiful hand in one of hers. The other lifted to cup one well-defined cheek, soft and warm upon the brunette's skin. "Never." She leaned forward until their lips touched, velvety smooth, and murmured against them, _"Never."_ It was impossible to tell the precise moment when words faded and became a kiss, so tender.

"Maura," the honey blonde's name flowed across Jane's lips as if it were a prayer of salvation. Eyes closed, forehead resting gently against the other woman's, the detective let out a shuddering breath before, much to her sudden surprise, tears quietly slid down one cheek. "Thank you," she whispered again, her head leaning into the doctor's touch.

Wetness against her cheek caused Maura to sit back again just a little, though not far enough to take away the feeling of her breath upon Jane's face. "What's this?" she asked with such compassion, thumb wiping away some of the tears. With extreme reluctance she let go Jane's fingers, slipping her newly freed hand around her waist and scooting towards her, letting that one hand and her own body hold up the towel between them. "Shh, I'm sorry, sweetie, I didn't mean to scare you. Shhh."

Jane sniffled, letting her head fall against the smaller woman's shoulder. "I'm not scared," she quietly protested, her hands settling in her lap, no longer caring about the towel. "I'm just… relieved, I think." She nuzzled against the warm skin of Maura's neck. "And maybe a little scared." She blew out a gust of air, something most recognized as her silently laughing at herself.

Maura pressed inward just before the towel could slip further, holding it steady until she could be assured that it was going nowhere. It wasn't for benefit of her expensive, flesh-toned dress, because there were already very light oil droplets and rubbings on the fabric where she had sat too close to Jane's body. Perhaps it was for the sake of Jane's modesty, though that ship had, if not sailed, at least undocked over an hour prior. Jane's swift exhalation was met with one of her own, nearly voiced, as the moment got to her. A few seconds later, she found words. "I don't know if it will help you to know this," she said as she held their embrace, "but _I'm_ not scared. You trust me, and that... that feeds me, somehow. I trust you, too. I trust you to touch me, and not hurt me. I _want_ you to touch me."

"What if," the husky voice whispering in Maura's ear was tired, as if Jane had finally given in to a long and hard fought battle of some kind, "it messes up everything we have? Maura, I don't want lose you because we went somewhere that didn't pan out." She pulled back reaching up at the last second to hold the towel in place. Glancing down at her half clothed self and over at the condition of Maura's dress, she held up her free hand to stop the doctor's answer before it come out. "Hold that thought." She pulled away and stood. Walking to her dresser, she pulled out a second pair of shorts and two shirts. Keeping her back to the doctor, she let the towel drop before pulling on an oversized t-shirt. Turning with the other clothes in her hand, she held them up as she motioned toward the woman sitting on her bed. "You want to change before we have this conversation?"

Caramel curls bounced as Maura shook her head; more of them had come loose from her sliver hair clip, making her look adorably mussed despite the fact that there had been little activity that would cause such a look. Her smile of light amusement showed clearly as she turned halfway, preserving whatever might have been left of Jane's modesty. "It's a little late now, isn't it? My dress is already stained, and if dry-cleaning doesn't take out the spots, I'll still consider it an acceptable loss. Our friendship is already changed, too, the moment either of us contemplated this. Organically, naturally... well, not entirely naturally. There may have been a _little_ engineering on my part, and if that upsets you, then I do apologize. We can try to go forward from here, or we can hold it where it is now for a very long time. But we can't go backward, and I, for one, don't want to try it."

Jane tossed the clothes on top of her dresser with a shrug before walking back to her bed. "Yeah, you're probably right about that, and I'm not sure I do either." Plopping down on the side opposite the smirking honey blonde, the detective leaned against the headboard, holding a hand out toward the other woman. "If this is how you get me to do things you want me to do in our relationship," she began, her voice light, eyes showing a light amusement of her own, "I think I'm going to be in trouble." She motioned for Maura to join her. "I'm a seasoned detective who grew up dealing with two sneaky, manipulative brothers, and I completely missed what was going on until you started working on my abs," she raised an eyebrow. "I think I was distracted."

Half-apology trespassed across Maura's features and her eyes shifted briefly to one side as Jane mentioned her brothers, but she did not respond verbally to that item. "Distracted?" she asked instead, slightly miffed, as she scooted up to sit facing Jane again, hip to hip. "I really do apologize for the maneuvering, but I was hoping that at least a good portion of your attention might be fairly well focused." Her left hand took Jane's right as her right rested lightly at Jane's left thigh, just below the hem of her shorts. "In fact, I was hoping that you would see it and understand that it was purposeful. I was attempting blatancy."

The detective gave a snort of amusement. "Distracted. As in, you touching me and making remarks full of innuendo while playing the longest list of lesbian songs I have ever heard in my life may have kept my attention on something other than what you were up to. I _might_ have been trying really hard to _not_ think about you naked in my bed because that's not how you're supposed to be thinking about your best friend." Again, her eyebrow quirked, Rizzoli smirk sliding into place. "It's entirely possible that's what was happening."

Maura had a moment of nothing but honest smiles. There was the thoughtful smile with head tilt, then the head-down shy smile, then she lifted her gaze and delivered a you-caught-me smile which grew warm. No, heated. "That's what I wanted you to think about. I chose those songs with great care, you know. Every one of them had a purpose. Some of them were a little off in their timing, perhaps, but that's what I've been thinking about ever since Fra..." She stoppered the word mid-syllable, the vowel choking to a whisper, and swiftly lowered her gaze for a moment as she tried to reroute her statement. Tried, and failed. "Um. I, I can't think of a graceful way out of that, and I don't want you thinking about anyone else right now. I want you to go back to thinking about me naked in your bed."

"Hmmm." Pursing her lips in thought, Jane's mind ran through the short list of possible people Maura might mean. "Frankie called you?" She narrowed her eyes, glancing down the length of her nose at the honey blonde. "I'm going to put that on the back burner for right now," reaching out, she grabbed Maura's hand, pulling the smaller woman to her for a heated kiss. "when I'm not busy."

Maura leaned into the kiss, into Jane's body as close as she could get, given their current positions. She was beautifully responsive, breathing quickly within a second or two, whimpering shortly thereafter. During a mercifully short pause, she managed, "Jane?" as her hands roamed over shoulder, arm, hand, and back up and over collarbones, barely missing truly personal territory on their way back down to her friend's waist. "Jane? I'm not," between one kiss and the next, "I'm not," and another, and another, "fragile," and she shifted to stretch out alongside Jane, dress fabric twisted and pulled higher on her thighs by her lack of concern for it, "and I'm not unsure."

Dark eyes roamed over the newly exposed flesh before Jane moved to lie on top of Maura, pinning her down. "Good to know," she said before lowering her head to kiss and nip at the exposed flesh above the collar of the twisted dress. "I'm getting there pretty quick," she breathed against the pulse point she had been giving copious amounts of attention to just a moment before. "In fact, I'd say I'm there," she said just before running her left hand down the side of Maura's body to the bottom hem of the flesh toned dress. "How about you?"

"You may not even have to touch me," Maura said, breathless, as her body betrayed all that she had kept controlled all day long, "but do it anyway. _Now,_" she demanded as her back arched…

* * *

><p>Jane woke earlier than was her normal habit on a Sunday morning. Glancing down at the woman in her arms, she smiled at the disheveled pile of honey blonde hair partially blocking the peaceful face of the still sleeping Maura.<p>

The usually well-manicured doctor was anything but, and Jane's smile widened at the memories of exactly how that had come to be. She gently moved the covers to check the smaller woman's back and winced at the nail marks. A grunt of sympathetic pain escaped before she could stop it. Quickly, she let the covers go, looking down to see if she'd disturbed the other woman.

Serene still, Maura smiled beatifically even before she opened her eyes, stretching against the deliciously soft body of her lover. "Admiring your handiwork?" she murmured duskily. "You should. I liked it. It showed me I was doing it right." Another languorous undulation found her facing upward then; the covers pulled down with her leg movements, leaving her bare above the waist. From the living room came the faint sounds of Joan Jett as the MP3 player cycled through its umpteenth repetition of the playlist. Still sleep-warmed, the smaller woman pulled Jane fully onto her again as if the smallest separation were physically uncomfortable for her. "Don't feel bad about the marks, Jane. You did it right, too."

"Yeah?" Jane allowed herself to be moved, settling comfortably in Maura's grasp. "What makes you think this was my first time at this rodeo?" She chuckled, closing her eyes and enjoying the feel of just being with Maura in this way.

"I don't," Maura replied with a healthy dose of respect in her tone, "but I want you to know you did it right for _me_. You were," she sighed dreamily, "everything I had no idea I was missing. Remind me to buy your brother a thank-you card. Or a ticket to some sporting event. Or maybe a car."

"A car?," the brunette's tone was light but teasing, "Wow, that good, huh?" She laid a kiss on the skin closest to her lips. "How about I just agree not to kill him for butting into my love life, we cook him dinner, and call it even?" She nuzzled against her lover, pulling the covers up to wrap them in. "You know you're coming to Family Night tonight, right?"

Maura considered all the presented options, then nodded agreement. "Dinner would be an acceptable substitute, I suppose." Her head tilted back to grant greater access to her throat, but not before she'd seen the telltale flush in Jane's features, a heightened color that would mark her all day - as, surely, she herself was similarly identifiable - as a well-loved woman. "I'll gladly come to family night, as long as I'm not a surprise to your parents. Either we tell them beforehand, or we agree not to tell them at all, but I don't want it to become a disturbance of family time. I know how important that time is for all of you."

She paused, then set that aside; it was a complicated discussion they could have later. "Jane? It really _was_ that good, you know. But even if it hadn't been, I hope you realize that I would have gotten just as much enjoyment out of it." Off Jane's doubtful expression, she smiled. "Because it was you. It was you letting me love you, loving me back."

"Ah," Jane shifted to a sitting position to grab her phone, "So, here's what I'm going to do," she returned to her spot. "I'm going to call Ma now, while I'm here with you and in a happy spot. I'm going to tell her what's up because now that I'm waking up, I can feel the claw marks, and, frankly, I'm sore. Ma's going to know something's up whether _/you/ _show up or not. So, I'm just going to come clean while it's still early. If everything turns out to be fine, which I'm thinking it will since she already knows about my first time at this rodeo and she was fine with it," she gave the doctor a wink, "then we go. If it doesn't go well, we stay in… all day. Sound good to you?" She paused for a breath. "That's all assuming that you're okay with walking around as my girlfriend and this isn't a one night stand kind of thing."

"Girlfriend, lover," Maura said with a sly look on her face, "or willing sex slave. Tell people anything you want, because it's all true. Be as discreet as you want at work, of course. If you can." She stroked the backs of her fingers along Jane's cheek. "If I'm looking as radiant as you are, I'm sure everyone will know. Especially if you're as sore as I am." Her voice had gone sultry as she said it. "Knowing how well it turned out the first time, I'm going to offer again to try to ease some of that soreness for you. Mine, I intend to treasure. Every sore muscle, stiff tendon, scratch, or bruise. Every little twinge will make me smile and feel so very smug and satisfied. I'm sure Vince and Barry will notice, too. They'll probably be thinking all manner of naughty, nasty things that they won't have the nerve to ask me." Her smile grew mischievous as she giggled giddily. Lovemaking and its afterglow looked good on her.

"Deep down, you really are evil, you know that?" the dark haired detective laughed as she scrolled through her phone. Maura giggled, actually giggled, as she nodded full agreement. "Okay, I'm calling. This should be interesting." She rolled her eyes as she waited for her mother to pick up.

_"Jane, is everything okay?"_ Angela's voice was full of fear and concern as she answered the phone.

Jane rolled her eyes. "Yeah, everything's fine, Ma. I just... are you busy?"

Relief. _"No, I can stop what I'm doing. What's going on?"_

"Listen, I probably shouldn't do this over the phone, but I need to tell you something, and I'm not really sure where to start." She glanced up into Maura's eyes, giving her a gentle smile. "But, I think you're going to be okay with it."

The blonde stretched, luxuriating in the tangled sheets, including one corner of the fitted sheet that had been pulled right up from the edge of the bed during the night's exertions. One hand propped up her messy bed-head as she idly contemplated how and where to touch Jane next. From tiny trickles, their mutual permissions had been granted to take all manner of liberties, and the embarrassment of riches thrilled her. Since she did not wish to cause too many problems between Jane and her mother, Maura settled for simply resting her hand on the slender woman's hip. She wondered if Angela would be looking at the clock, wondering why Jane needed to talk about this at _this_ hour. How close would she get to the correct mental image? Would she put things together and realize that the only reason that this particular conversation had to happen at this particular hour was that Jane had awakened, wrapped within and around a woman, each bearing scratches and bruises from their overly enthusiastic celebration of sensuality that still filled the air with its intoxicating fragrance?

_"Jane. Tell me."_

"Remember Sarah Dickson?" Jane asked, her voice uncertain.

The name came with recognition, and Maura remembered that Jane had almost spilled it from her lips during dinner last night. What would have changed if Maura had simply asked, _Sarah who?_ as she had considered doing? Tenderly she began stroking long ovals up and down the toned side, waist, and thigh.

_"Sure,"_ Angela's voice was confused, but she was clearly following whatever direction Jane was taking her._ "She was a nice girl, a little clumsy. Why?"_

"Do you remember what happened with her... and me, I mean?" Jane rolled over so that she was on her back but still in Maura's arms as the smaller woman, lips soft and warm, playing a leisurely game of "kiss the freckle" across Jane's shoulders. She was trying to be good, but Jane's skin was so beautiful, so tempting.

_"Yes." Angela's voice was guarded. "You two had a fight about Jake Dillenger and split."_

"Um, well, yeah." The brunette snuggled down into the doctor's arms, not bothering to fix the sheets that had slipped down. "But, I mean, that we were an item for a while."

_"Until you kissed Jake Dillenger."_

"Ma! Really?"

Maura rolled backwards, giving space between their bodies, and pulled Jane towards her so that they were facing again. She could just barely hear Angela's side of the conversation, and smiled. Later they could have the discussion about how there would be no more Jakes for either of them until further notice, but right now she could just pour herself into feeling glad that there had been a Sarah, someone with whom Jane had learned what Maura was so grateful that at least one of them knew: that they were possible for each other. She rose up halfway, leaning onto her straightened arm and palm and looking down at the dark-haired, work-tanned woman with whom she had shared so much for so long. How had this never happened before?

_"Honey, what are you trying to tell me? If you're trying to tell me that you've dated girls, you know I know that, and, like I told you then, I don't care **who** you're dating as long as you're happy and they're good to you."_ The older Rizzoli paused for a moment to catch her breath._ "Janie, are you seeing a woman? Are you," hopefulness, "dating someone?"_

"Yeah." Jane tilted her head back to look up into Maura's face. "I'm dating someone."

Maura's eyes closed, then reopened, pupils dilated. So often she had seen Jane looking harsh and intimidating, bold and cocky, comical and cute, scared into smallness, but her expression now was different. _Oh, I want to see this every day_, she thought as she saw those sharply defined features soften, ran her fingers over eyebrows and cheekbones and jawline. _This is just for me._

_"Well, don't just keep me hanging here! Who is it?"_

"Maura." Jane closed her eyes and waited.

_"It's about time! When are you two coming over tonight? Can you pick up some bread? Your father forgot."_

Maura did not suppress her chuckle. Trust Angela Rizzoli to focus on what's important, making this normal for her daughter so that there need be no self-consciousness. She whispered, "And a car for Frankie," eyes a-twinkle.

"Um, the usual time, and, yeah, we can do that. Anything else?"

_"No. We'll see you girls tonight. Love you, Janie. Give me love to Maura."_

Maura whispered again, "I love her too." It was easy to say, easy to feel. Jane had become the person that she was, in large part, because of Angela.

"Yeah, sure, love you, too," Jane ended the call and tossed the phone on the night stand. "She says it's about time, and she wants us to bring bread to dinner tonight. We have," she glanced at the clock, "about 6 hours before we have to be anywhere. Have any ideas on how to spend that?"

"Shower," Maura immediately replied, mind suddenly afire with ideas involving wet, soapy, slippery Jane. Then she paused, considering the logistics of some of those activities. "How long do you think your hot water will hold out?"

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you for reading, and we always appreciate reviews!<strong>


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